6 December 2011
Since my arrival to Florence, I have seen many familiar faces. Or I imagine people from home in strangers, passing by.
Do I miss who I was? Has life escaped me somehow?
If you are reading and wonder who I have “seen” the list is indeed quite random: Jared Barnett, Frank Muniz, Steven/Mr.King Cougar 2009, my deceased grandmother, Kristie Borjesson’s voice on a nearby skype date, and so-on.
Jared is one of my best friend’s dear boyfriend, but why did I see his face and not hers, I don’t know.
Today, I found myself working on a last-minute paper and procrastinating. During my few moments on Facebook, I had the urge to search an old friend: Max. He was my date to the wedding I was a part of, and helped me all the way through high school. We were “meant to be” according to my brothers, but I never saw it. Then there was my best friend in high school who entered and re-entered my life every time her long-term boyfriend called it quits–temporarily. I lost touch. I left the high school, the state of California, the continent of America. I was done with my old life.
Or so I thought.
Today, as I typed in Max ____ into Facebook, I found that he still refers to himself as Maximillian, such a burst of energy he is: his name and personality. His profile picture: him and her. Her, being my best friend from high school. Then when facebook-stocking her, I find that she is best friends with a girl from my high school small group. My best friend in high school was far from being a friend at my church, but now, I leave, and they all join together as a social group. Why was I not the glue?
Because this is prideful. It is prideful of me to see my own identity sown by that of those who once existed in my life, and see myself as emptiness when I no longer fit in what once was.
I am not defined by any being other than myself. And even I do not know as He knows. I have been sown by the threads of redemption. I am a new being. Each day a new seed is planted, the flowers grow, the flowers die, pollen is spread, and the disconnected seeds grow new plants.
One seed started it all. First, in Adam, and finally, in Jesus Christ. He is my glue, your glue, and our glue. Through Him all is defined.
When His body is resurrected, so will be mine. Until that day, my identity is placed in the search of shelter. The only way is by obedience, trusting the Light ahead, and moving forward in life.
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